


shelter

by thewayofthemandalorian



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hostage Situations, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Mutual Pining, soft javier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayofthemandalorian/pseuds/thewayofthemandalorian
Summary: When you are taken hostage by FARC after convincing Christina Jurado to get in the car waiting to take her to Miami, Javi realizes your growing feelings for each other as he attempts to rescue you.
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	shelter

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically the first fic I ever wrote, back in June when I first watched season 3 of Narcos. I put it on the back burner and then came back to it when I was doing my masterlist. I’ve polished it, and I hope it’s good!
> 
> Warnings: Swearing, smoking, kidnapping, drinking, canon-typical violence, kissing, mutual pining, implied/referenced sex, one hell of a verbal bitchslap.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

“Attention ladies and gentlemen, we are making our final descent into Cali. It is a balmy eighty-four and sunny today. Please buckle your seatbelts and return your trays to their upright position as we make our descent. Thank you for flying with us. Have a pleasant rest of your afternoon.”

As the pilot repeated the spiel in Spanish, you glanced out the window, equal parts anxious and nervous to begin this chapter of your life.

When you had seen the posting to transfer to Colombia to be on the task force for taking down the Cali Cartel, you had jumped at the opportunity. You had been approved almost instantly.

As assistant to Javier Peña.

It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful. You were. But you were expecting something a bit more meaty.

All the same, you knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers, so you had accepted the transfer with grace and dignity, and would do what you could to assist with Agent Peña. 

You would be glad to be off this plane. It was a long flight from Miami, and all you wanted to do was get settled and start on your assignment.

Javier sighed as he saw the flight status of your plane switch from “in transit” to “landed”. He hadn’t wanted an assistant; he’d fought tooth and nail to not have an assistant. But the ambassador hadn’t listened, instead telling him of your intellect and effectiveness. Javi had just scoffed. He’d meant no disrespect to you; he didn’t know you, he just didn’t think such talents that your résumé boasted should be wasted being his assistant. Maybe, he thought, you didn’t necessarily have to be a true assistant. You could help out in more ways than just getting files or helping translate things or, God forbid, getting him coffee.

You spotted the agent holding the sign with your name on it, and a look of relief flooded your face. _Did she think that she had to find her own ride?_ Javi wondered when he saw the look of relief cross your features. You walked over to him, carry-on duffel bag slung on your shoulder, your rolling suitcase in hand.

“Agent Peña?” you asked the man. He was handsome. Tall, dark hair and a mustache. He wore a short sleeved raspberry button-up shirt and some faded jeans. A quiet but commanding presence, you thought. But a sadness lingered in his eyes. Remorse. Almost grief.

He nodded and stuck out his free hand for you to shake. “Javier, please,” he replied, shaking your soft hand with his firm one. You introduced yourself. “Good to meet you,” said Javier, leading you towards the elevator bay.

“Good flight?” asked Javier after the two of you made your way into the elevator.

“Ehh… it was a flight. Nothing special,” you shrugged.

“I’m just going to be frank with you. I didn’t want an assistant. I don’t need an assistant.” You blink at his words. “I mean no disrespect to you, it’s nothing personal. I just… I think it’s more of a thing for an intern to do, rather than an established DEA agent. I don’t need someone running and fetching and doing errands for me. That’s never been my style. If I want a coffee or something, I can get my own fucking coffee. I don’t need someone to do that for me,” said Javier. Relief must have crossed your face again, because he seemed a lot more at ease as he spoke, “but, the ambassador wouldn’t budge. So that’s fine, whatever. But, I’m not going to have you be an assistant in the way that the ambassador and the agency want you to be.”

A healthy mix of relief and confusion washed through you as he spoke. “What do you mean? What kind of assistant do you want me to be?” you asked. Javier started the truck, thinking about his next words.

“Well for starters, we’re going to keep the running and fetching to a minimum. Obviously, you’re still going to put together case files and things like that. But you’re going to be less _assistant_ more … _partner_ , I guess?” He turned out from the parking garage into the Colombian streets.

You were still confused. Elated that you wouldn’t be a glorified secretary, but still confused. “What about the ambassador?” you asked, “won’t he be pissed that I’m essentially going to be your unofficial partner?”

Javier merged into traffic. “Yeah, I thought about that, and I don’t really give a fuck. It’s my operation, I’m going to be doing things my way.”

As he drove towards the apartment complex that the agency provided to their agents, you chatted easily with Javier. Talking about this and that. He detailed more of what he expected you to do. He was relieved that you felt the same way and were very much on-board with his idea of bending the job description and be more of a partner than a secretary. He was serious, but you could tell he had a less serious side to him as well. He spoke candidly about what you would probably experience while working in Colombia, being an expert himself in that field.

You found that after less than five minutes of knowing him, you really liked Javier Peña.

* * *

A nice rhythm formed between you and Javier. Although it didn’t start right away - you needed to get your footing in the office and figure out your place in it - you and Javi had an easy rapport. True, you did do some assistant-like things every now and again, but only when it was needed. One night, about a month into it, surprising the both yourself and Javi, you knocked on his door, shortly after the end of the day, with an invitation for dinner. Just between colleagues, you reminded yourself. And from there, you spent a lot of free time (which wasn’t a lot) in each others’ apartments, just hanging out. Unwinding.

That had really solidified your partnership. Most nights, you and Javi spent at the office, long after everyone had gone home, going through ledgers, connecting suspects.

It was easy to get along with Javi. He was a good partner, a good boss. A good man. A man that you were absolutely wrecked for. When you and he had trailled Franklin Jurado’s wife Christina to the bar last month, a pang of jealousy had risen in you, hot and uncomfortable in your stomach. _It’s just for the job_ , you reminded yourself.

* * *

The night before Javi was set to follow Jurado to Curaçao, you found him at his desk, sipping a whiskey. He looked nervous. You cleared your throat. He looked up. “You’re here late,” you said. He gave you a look that said _I could say the same for you_. “Isn’t your flight, like, first thing?” you asked, sitting down across from him and pouring yourself a glass of the amber liquid. Javi had to admit, he liked a woman who could drink. You weren’t a woman who shot back booze every night, but every now and again, you liked to indulge yourself. And tonight was one of those nights.

“You look nervous,” you said, wincing slightly at the taste of whiskey. Javi nodded.

“We’ve already fucked up so much on this assignment. Losing the accountant. The informant being inconsistent,” he could go on, but you got the idea.

Feeling bold, you reached a hand out to cover his own. “It’s going to be okay. You’re gonna go to Curaçao, arrest Jurado and get him to testify against those pieces of shit.” Javi squeezed your hand in thanks before you pulled it back, suddenly feeling shy. He knocked back the rest of his whiskey. You did the same and the two of you stood up.

For the briefest of moments, it looked as though Javier was staring right at your mouth, inching forward ever so slightly. You yawned suddenly, breaking the temporary spell that you and Javi were under.

 _He had been about to kiss you._ You were sure of it. And you would have let him. Would have kissed him back.

“Can you give me a ride to the airport tomorrow?” he asked as you made your way to the parking lot.

You nodded as you reached your cars, parked side by side. “Of course,” you said, unlocking the drivers side. “I’ll race you home,” smiled Javi.

It took you a very long time for you to fall asleep, sad but kind brown eyes haunting your mind’s eye.

The next morning at an _ungodly_ time, Javi knocked on your front door. “’S open,” you mumbled, still waking up. On the kitchen table sat two thermoses of coffee. Yours was half-drunk already; you needed the energy. Javi stepped into your line of sight. You yawned through a hello.

“Tired, _hermosa_?” Javier grinned, taking a sip of his coffee. If he was tired too, it didn’t show, aside from minimal bags under his eyes. It wasn’t fair, you thought, how good looking Javier was, even when he was exhausted. If he had gone to bed at the same time you did last night, then he only got about four or five hours of sleep as well.

There was no time for idle chit-chat. Javier slung his travel bag on his shoulder. He packed light, maybe two or three days worth of clothes, but he was hoping the police in Curaçao would be helpful in the arrest of Jurado so that he would be in and out. You walked down the stairs in amiable silence, both too tired to string together complete sentences. The drive to the airport was equally quiet, hardly anyone on the road at this early hour. It wasn’t an awkward, loaded silence. It was comfortable, easy.

After Javi had checked in, he turned to you. “I have a favour to ask you,” he said as you made your way to the gate. His flight would be boarding soon.

“What is it?” you asked.

“When we arrest Jurado, I can almost guarantee he won’t wanna talk until his wife is with him. I’m going to call you when the arrest’s made, have the DEA go over to escort her to the airport. Knowing her, she’s probably going to bail as soon as she sees cop cars at her place. Can you go over there and tell her what’s up? Get her to co-operate so we can get her to Jurado as soon as possible.”

You still felt fringes of jealousy from when you had seen him shamelessly flirt with her at the bar, but tamped it down. “Of course I can.”

Just then, the overhead speaker announced that Javi’s flight was now boarding. “That’s me,” he said softly, surprising you by pulling you into a tight hug. You thought you could stay here forever wrapped in his arms, breathing in his scent. As he pulled away, it was your turn to surprise him. You grabbed his face between your hands and kissed him.

It was a quick kiss. A press of your lips to his. His mustache tickled your lips as his lips moulded to yours. It was over almost as quickly as it had started. Before you could say anything, Javi growled, said something in Spanish that you couldn’t hear, and pulled you back in, his lips crashing onto yours. This kiss was hungry, chaotic. Your mouth opened against his and his tongue peeked its way into your mouth, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you in close.

Pulling apart to breathe, he rested his forehead against yours as you pressed a shy kiss to his cheek. Panting slightly, you said quietly, “Come back to me.” You stroked the back of his hair absently.

“ _Siempre_ ,” he replied. _Always._

* * *

Approximately thirty hours later (you had spent the entire thirty hours thinking about that damn kiss, how Javi had felt. How his lips felt against yours. How utterly, utterly _wrecked_ he looked when you had finally pulled apart), your cell phone rang. “Hello?” you answered, rifling through a case file related to Miguel Rodriguez.

“ _Hermosa_ , it’s me,” replied Javi’s voice. Before you had a chance to ask or say anything, he carried on. “We got him. We’re flying him to Miami. Get to Christina.” A gust of relief surged through you.

“That was quick,” you said, schooling your voice.

“Did you doubt me, _hermosa_?”

“Of course not,” you replied, your smile ringing through your voice. “When, um, when will you be back?” you asked, suddenly shy.

Javi cleared his throat. “As soon as I can,” he said, “I promised someone I’d come back to her.” His voice was low, his words giving you butterflies.

Getting to Christina wasn’t as hard as you anticipated. Sure, she had tried to run the second she saw all the DEA and police cars, but you were quicker. Explaining the situation, what had happened, you talked her into getting in the escort car that would take her to the airport. From there, a plane would take her to Miami where she would try to convince her husband to testify against the Cali cartel. Agent Fiestl gave the call to Javi, since your phone was dead, and you started to make your way to your apartment.

You never made it home.

When Javi saw Agent Fiestl at the gate instead of you the following morning, immediately he knew something was wrong.

* * *

The hours all seemed to blend together. You didn’t remember much about how you got here. A car had been following you and then suddenly had rear-ended your car. It got fuzzy from there, and the next thing you knew, you were lying on the ground in a makeshift pen in the jungle. The Cali cartel really didn’t want Franklin to testify against them. You knew about the FARC. They didn’t fuck around, same as the Cali cartel.

Time seemed to be irrelevant. You didn’t know how long it had been. Hours? Days? They never kept their eyes off you, their stony faces threatening and cold. All you wanted was to go home. You were tired, so tired. Your thoughts kept returning to Javier. What if he found you too late? What if he didn’t know you were missing? It was the fear of all those things that boosted your adrenaline. You were too afraid to fall asleep - who knew what those men would do if you let your guard down for even the briefest of moments?

It was dark when the rainfall of bullets began. You were confused. _What was happening?_ Whatever it was, it had the FARC panicked. Your enclosure was opened by a big guy. He had a gun pointed at you. Instinctively you held up your hands as he moved behind you, putting the gun at your back.

“ _Caminar,”_ the man spat at you.

You knew what that meant. _Walk_. Tearfully, you nodded. You refused to cry, mentally willing your tears to stay in your eyes as your feet began to move.

There was a mix of shouts, laughter, and heavy gunfire. _What the fuck was going on?_

“ _Por favor_ ,” you whimpered. _Please._

The man growled in response, “ _Silencio.” Be quiet._

Choking back a sob, you mustered your energy and kicked the man in the groin. Hard. Taking advantage of his surprise and momentary pain, you _ran_. As fast as you could until you made it to a clearing. A cocking of a gun made you aware of your jailer catching up to you.

Before you could do anything, a familiar figure came around the corner to the clearing. Your heart burst.

_Javier._

You wondered if this firefight was him. He said your name, clearly not seeing your jailer as he stepped towards you.

“Javi, wait!” you said as the man with the gun came into view, gun pressed at your head. Javi raised his gun in warning. Before he could do anything, a gunshot rang out from somewhere behind you. Both you and Javier panicked, but when the man fell backwards, dead, you knew you were safe.

You practically leaped into Javier’s arms. He held you tight, like he was never going to let you go. He gave you a gentle kiss and guided you towards the chopper, you clinging to him like a lifeline as the dam began to break as he eased you into the helicopter seat. You slumped against him as the helicopter took off, and you finally cried, breathing him in, making his shirt wet, clinging to him as he stroked your back, whispering soothing words into your ear.

“I’m sorry, _mi amor_. You’re safe, I’m here. _Está bien_.”

* * *

You had no idea how long you were in the chopper for, resting against Javi, crying until there was nothing left. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, the helicopter landed. You were exhausted, slipping in and out of a light sleep against Javier’s tear-stained shirt. Something came to mind. He had associated with Don Berna to save you. Had rained hell down to save you; you had heard Javi speaking to the other agent on the helicopter about it when they thought you were sleeping. Your heart clenched in gratitude and love for the man you were leaning against.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. It didn’t seem like enough. Javi squeezed you closer, your arm coming up to his shoulder to hold him to you. He kissed your forehead in silence.

“We gotta get up, sweetheart,” said Javi gently as the helicopter powered down. You forced your eyes to open, not wanting to move from his shoulder. Making a sound that could only be described as exhausted displeasure, you acquiesed, taking Javi’s outstretched hand and pulling yourself to your feet.

As you and Javier dismounted the chopper, you took in your surroundings. You were a few blocks away from the apartment complex. Javi was leading you to a car. Fiestl and Van Ness were in the front seats; you hadn’t even noticed they were a part of your rescue mission.

The drive back to the apartment was quiet. No one said a word as Fiestl drove silently through the early morning. It would be light soon. You held Javi’s hand the entire time, needing an anchor. As you stepped out of the car, Javi said to Fiestl, “Call me if you hear anything,” before he and Van Ness carried on to the embassy. Fiestl nodded and carried on.

* * *

“You’re staying with me for a little while, _querido,_ ” said Javier as he unlocked the door to his apartment.

You were too physically and emotionally exhausted to argue, just wanting to take a shower, maybe sleep for two days straight.

Javi sighed as he unstrapped his bullet-proof vest, dropping it on the couch. He was tired, too. But he’d do it all again in a heartbeat for you.

“Do you need anything?” he asked you.

Your voice was hoarse when you responded. “A shower. Clean clothes. Something to eat. A bed.”

Javier nodded. “I can do that.” Busying himself, he got you a spare towel and a clean shirt and pair of boxers of his for you. “Bathroom’s just down the hall,” he said, forgetting temporarily that you knew where his bathroom was. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

You were in the shower for as long as you could stand it, your aching muscles screaming in relief at the contact of hot water.

Toweling yourself off, you slipped into Javier’s shirt and boxer pants. From the kitchen, you could hear Javi making something to eat. Hanging up the towel on the hook next to Javier’s, you padded down the hall.

Setting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of you, Javier said, “It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll do you good to have something in you, _hermosa_.”

Wordlessly, you ate your food. Your eyes were glazed.

“You look so tired,” said Javier as you started on your toast, his own voice ragged with exhaustion.

You met his gaze, his brown eyes running deep with emotion. He often looked sad or remorseful. But now? He looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

When you had finished eating, Javi led you to his bedroom. It was a one-bedroom apartment, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to let you sleep on his shitty couch.

“I’ll just be on the couch if you need me,” he said to you as you climbed into his bed.

You stopped him just as his hand hit the doorknob. “Wait,” you said, your voice thick. “Stay with me. Please. I can’t - I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without you here,” you said, your eyes burning with exhaustion.

Javier didn’t need to be asked twice. “All right,” he said.

As Javier settled in next to you, his hand moved up to your forehead, gently stroking away the hair that was falling in your eyes. You shut your eyes at the feel of his touch.

Shifting so that you were facing him, your face was only inches from Javier’s. His eyes were stormy as they flicked between your own eyes and your lips. You leaned in and kissed him.

It took Javier a moment to respond, but when he did, it was with full force. His mustache tickled as his mouth brushed against yours, the stubble of his five o’clock shadow tingling against your skin. You couldn’t imagine a time before you had known Javier’s kiss. It was passionate, soft, warm, everything.

“Javi,” you whispered as he broke the kiss, his mouth roaming your face. You loved this man, you realized as your need for him became almost too much to bear. He nipped a sensitive spot behind your ear that made you shiver with delight. Chasing his lips with yours again, you whispered his name once more against his mouth.

Javier was attentive. As he eased you against him, he broke the kiss for a single question, his voice hoarse. “Are you sure?”

Nodding vehemently, you said, “I’m sure, Javi. I’ve never been more sure about anything.” To solidify your point further, you kissed him again.

“ _Querida_. What you do to me,” said Javier. “Let me show you. Let me take care of you.”

* * *

You woke, some time later. While you were still tired, you felt better than you had. Javier had had a lot to do with your eased state. At the thought of Javier, you reached out to grab at him, but he was no longer beside you.

Turning to your other side, you saw Javi standing at the window, a cigarette between his lips. His jeans were back on, but he was bare from the waist up.

“Javi?” you whispered, ignoring the want to stay in bed. Pushing the blanket and sheets back, you slipped out of bed, still completely naked. Ignoring the ache between your legs for the time being, you tiptoed over to him, resting your head against his broad shoulder.

His hair was mussed. “What are we doing?” he asked quietly, almost to himself. “This whole system is corrupt. No matter what I do, it doesn’t make a difference.”

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, you said, “Javier Peña. You _are_ making a difference. You are doing the best you can be doing in a shitty circumstance. I’m literally living proof that you are a good person, trying his best. I’m not going to stand here and listen to the man I love doubt himself.” You stroked his arm. “Whatever ends up happening, I’ll be with you. Every step of the way.”

Javier was quiet. Absorbing what you had to say. “What if - what if we fail?” he asked.

“You can’t fail if you’re doing the right thing,” you said. It was naive, but it was what you believed all the same. “Now, let’s go back to bed,” you said, sliding your hand down his arm and clasping it in his.

As he settled back in next to you, he pressed his lips to your forehead, then to your lips. “ _Querida_?” he said against your skin. You hummed sleepily in response. “I love you, too.”

It was as though you had just fallen asleep again when you were being shaken awake. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you said groggily as Javi threw the shirt of his that had been thrown to the floor earlier that morning and a pair of pants in your direction.

Javier couldn’t believe it himself. “Franklin Jurado was killed in jail.”

The two of you were silent as you went to collect Christina from the airport. She was beyond tears as the three of you drove to the embassy in silence. You hadn’t missed the way she looked at you, wearing Javier’s clothes, bruises from where his mouth had been on your neck. She was judging you.

Trying very hard not to give in to your anger at the woman, you instead grasped Javier’s hand as the three of you entered a conference room.

However, you couldn’t keep your words to yourself as Christina called Javier a piece of shit. Any sense of decorum was thrown out the window.

“Okay, you know what, lady? We’ve had fucking enough of you. All we wanted - all we _needed_ was your co-operation. Your husband was a literal drug dealer. I’m sorry he died, really I am, but Javi has done nothing but try to help you. And how do you repay him? By calling him a piece of shit when he was only doing his fucking job at trying to put away real pieces of shit like the people your husband worked with. So if you could just fucking shut up for once in your life and actually help us without verbally abusing us? That would be fucking great.”

Christina looked horrified at your outburst. Javi looked like he was trying very hard not to smile.

As you exited the embassy after ensuring that a junior agent would keep an eye on Christina, your hand in Javi’s, you said, “I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I’m past the point of giving a fuck.”

Javi turned to you. “ _Mi amor_. That was so fucking hot. It was everything I’ve wanted to say to her since she first gave us trouble.”

You sighed as you got into the truck. “What are we going to do, Javi? We have no leads.”

Javier started the car. “We’ll figure something out. But for right now, I think we still have some unfinished business back at home.”

* * *

Sure enough, it seemed all at once things started to fall into place. Before you realized it, you had a water-tight case against the Cali cartel. One that would hold up in court.

Javier had been right in his assumption that the whole operation was corrupt - that the system the two of you were serving for was no better than the one that you were trying to dismantle. It didn’t sit right with either of you.

As you lay in his bed one night, his strong arm wrapped around you, an idea that had played in your mind for a while was spoken by Javier. “Let’s resign after this is officially over. I’m done playing their games.”

It was easy to accept. The operation was very nearly over, but the judge was going to rule in your favour. It was inevitable.

At the beginning of this operation, you had been plucky and bright-eyed, completely unaware of the true goings-on between Colombia and the United States. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, or so they said. This was no different. It disgusted you, knowing that you had played into their hand, but you had to tell yourself and Javi that you had done all that you could at playing clean and doing the best you could.

Even so, now that the stress of the job had been lifted, the sadness in Javier’s eyes had lifted. He no longer carried the weight of the world on his shoulders as he had when you were in the thick of things with this operation.

“What do you want to do?” you asked, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Javier kissed you. “I’m good with just about anything, so long as you’re with me.”

“I’m with you, for as long as you’ll have me,” you responded.

It would be a long day in court tomorrow, and the future was unsure, but so long as you were with Javier Peña, everything would work out just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish translations:  
> hermosa = beautiful  
> siempre = always  
> caminar = walk  
> por favor = please  
> silencio = be quiet  
> mi amor = my love  
> está bien = it's okay  
> querida = sweetheart/darling


End file.
